Half of the Whole
by penandpaper67
Summary: George Weasley is upset, lonely, and above all, twinless. How could he move on after losing his second half? A George x Angelina fic.
1. Loss

**A/N: This just popped into my head a couple of days ago, and I had to write it down. It was originally meant to be a longer one-shot, but I think I'm going to turn it into a multi chapter George x Angelina fic. I might just leave it at this, though, if I don't like the rest of the stuff I write. The first chapter's really short, but it's really an introduction more than anything. Oh, and I don't own anything that's JKR's (though I wish I did...).**

Chapter 1: Loss

Diagon Alley was the site of much jubilant celebration, hearty drinking, and unreserved laughter. The brightly colored shops sparkled with their magical wares, and creatures of all types prowled the streets, selling overly priced, possibly illegal goods. No one would have thought that mere months ago the wizarding street had been nearly deserted. Few indications of the second war remained, as if the world was desperate to be rid of all of the misery it had seen over the past couple of years. Shops had reopened, sales had picked up nearly everywhere, and shopkeepers were hard-pressed to keep up with their customers' demands. All salesmen in Diagon Alley were on their way to becoming rich as the wizarding world attempted to rebuild itself.

Only one shop that had managed to stay open in the war had actually closed down. The owner of said shop had sold it to a prominent broom manufacturer, as well as the flat located above it, nearly three months prior, just after the war ended. Even so, he still made frequent visits to Diagon Alley, his former home. He slowly strolled down the main thoroughfare, staring out at the familiar shop windows flanking him on either side. The usually busy atmosphere that was present during the day had mellowed out into a soft trickle of its former strength. Lately he had taken to wandering the streets late at night. He just couldn't stand being at home, among all the family, and without…

He couldn't think the name. He just couldn't. The Battle of Hogwarts had broken him, just as thoroughly as a hammer could shatter glass. The one person who had truly understood him, who had been more than just a part of his life, who could essentially read his mind, was gone forever from the world of the living. George Weasley glanced at his reflection in the window opposite him, shuddering as he did. It didn't help his sense of loss when he saw Fred every time he looked in the mirror.

**A/N: So what did you think? Please read and review and I'll hopefully have the second chapter up sometime soon!**


	2. Reflection

**A/N: So that whole second chapter being up soon thing? Yeah, that kind of didn't happen (obviously)... Sorry guys, this one got thrown on the back burner with everything that's been going on and the other ideas I've had. So here's a second chapter. This chapter was actually my original inspiration. I'm making these chapters really short for some reason (I don't really know why). The whole thing won't be this depressing. It will start to get better with the next chapter, I promise. And I won't take 7 and a half months to update this time...**

Chapter 2: Reflection

He was on one of his late night strolls again, trying not to think. It wasn't yet November, but the chill air had a hint of winter on its breath, threatening to suffocate George with its icy fingers. He stopped once again at the familiar storefront and stared. Or should I say, tried not to stare. Every time he caught his reflection, he thought for a moment that it was Fred he saw, not himself. But when he realized otherwise, he couldn't look away. Sometimes he'd delude himself into actually thinking that Fred was his reflection and he'd talk to him as if he were back. Of course, Fred never responded, merely moved his lips in unison with George.

This night, George wasn't in the mood to dull the pain. He wanted to feel it burning in his gut, his heart, his eyes. Memories triggered the tears, the wet salty drops which had stained his cheeks far too many times over the past few months. His family had started to get tired with him recently and all his moping.

"You'll have to move on at some point," his Dad said. "At least put up an appearance of having a life. Go out once in a while during the _day_. Meet with old friends. Do something."

But nobody understood. Nobody could. Everybody else had their mourning period than had moved on. It had been hard, especially for his mum, and he still found her crying in the kitchen sometimes, his dad's arm around her. But George didn't have anything to comfort him. Molly had Arthur (and vice versa), Bill had Fleur, Charlie had his dragons, Percy had his work, Ron had Hermione, and Ginny had Harry. What was left for George? The absence of his best friend and twin? That wasn't exactly comforting…

"George?" a small voice called from what seemed to be very far away. George jerked his head up, wiping away the tears and looking into the window. Standing across the road staring into the window was a woman with smooth chocolaty brown skin, long silky black hair, and wide eyes. "George Weasley, is that you?"

George wanted to snap back, "Of course it's me, Angelina, do you know any other depressed red-heads?" but he just didn't have the energy. He stared at her reflection with empty eyes, not answering. She took several wide strides forward and stood next to him, staring into the window as well. "What are you looking at?" she said.

He mumbled, "Nothing." His eyes moved from the window to her slight body and anxiously observed its length, settling on her face. Then he turned and shuffled away.

He thought she would call after him, refuse to leave him alone, but she understood. She let him be, comprehending that she had interrupted something sacred.

**A/N: What did you guys think? Is it total crap? Let me know in a review please! The next chapter will actually include some real interaction between George and Angelina. **


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